Just One Dance
by NatalieVale
Summary: It is the day of the Military Ball. Führer Roy Mustang must spoil his second-in-command, Colonel Riza Hawkeye if she is to be his escort. Cute, fluffy drabble. Enjoy. It is more true to Brotherhood than the original FMA.


"Riza? Riza Mustang?"

A delicate hand jerked away from the blonde owner's chest. She hadn't expected Roy's last name to be called in place of hers. Riza stood proudly before making her way towards the lovely elderly woman who had called for her. As soon as she reached her, the woman motioned her to follow.

Riza did not know what Mustang had planned for her, nor did she have a choice in what was on the agenda for the day. The Military Ball was later in the evening and she had hoped that it would not be as big of a deal as Mustang was making it. It had gone so far as the driver he had hired for the day forcing her to change out of the casual pants and tank top into a much more revealing pair of shorts. Of course, there was a fluffy bag hanging in the back of the vehicle that had sat ominously (in her opinion) since she had stepped foot into the car.

The little old woman stopped again, then opened one of the several doors in the hallway they had gone down. Riza almost immediately looked angry. "Why am I being forced into a spa chair?"

The old woman gave a knowing smile, "Your husband said you would protest."

Riza sighed heavily, "He is not my husband." The comment was a little harsher than intended, but at the moment, she was more concerned with what her superior officer had convinced these poor people to do to her.

"He said you would say that as well," Riza's companion giggled softly. "Such a handsome man. You are lucky to have found him."

"Did he tell you that he is incapable of an actual relationship and parades his right hand officer as his girlfriend or wife as to not have to be put in that position?"

This made the elderly woman fall silent immediately. She turned and motioned for Riza to follow behind her. The pretty blonde did so reluctantly. She knew that Mustang had already paid for everything, with the foresight that she would not participate if she had to pay anything for it. With that thought, she decided not to make him waste what he had spent.

Obediently, she sat and let the woman work. After Riza's snippy comments, the woman didn't offer any cause for conversation. The younger blonde was quite alright for the lack of speaking. Heated wax seemed to have been placed on every inch of skin imaginable and hair forcibly ripped away. What little undesirable hair that was left was plucked. Once she had an 'acceptable' amount of body hair, it was time for both her hands and feet to be soaked, pampered, and the nails on each trimmed and decorated with black polish and very intricate red lace designs over them.

The process took a good deal of time (and plenty of quiet cursing of Mustang on Riza's part), but eventually, the blonde was allowed to redress and leave. For this, she was thankful. But, while she had hoped quietly that was all, her day was not hers to dictate. The driver had a full schedule to complete before some deadline that only Mustang and he knew, though most likely coincided with the start time of the Military Ball. With a bit more complaint, Riza went along to the next stop.

It took a little less time to get her washed, dried, and made up than the prep for it. The next time she was stepping into the vehicle, Riza's hair was down and in beautiful curls that bounced with every step. There was more make-up than Riza cared for, which barely consisted of eyeliner, red eyeshadow, mascara, and bright red lipstick. With every glance she took in the mirror of the car, she was amazed. She found herself resembling so many women of Central who had married into the Military. The women tended to enjoy staying home and only being seen with children and right next to her husband's side. She couldn't decide if she hated it or not. She wasn't really given the time to make up her mind before her driver gave an order to get dressed into whatever was hiding out in the bag. This gave her a bit more of a helpless feeling as she unzipped it.

Inside, there was a blood-red Princess styled gown. Bits of black bead work adorned the corset styled, separated bodice. She knew two things, just by looking at the dress. One: it would be a pain to get into alone. Two: it was Roy Mustang's favorite color. A very faint blush stained her painted face as she reached out for it. Alongside the dress, there was a set of lacy red panties and a matching red bra as well as a simple slip that would sit at her waist. The blush darkened at this and she looked to the driver again.

"I'll change if we go back to my place and I am allowed to do so there."

The man chuckled softly, "I will have to go inside with you. The Führer gave me orders."

Riza sighed heavily, weighing her options. She honestly didn't want anyone other than Mustang in her small home. And she didn't want anyone near her to see the secret written on her back. However, she would be at an extreme disadvantage while changing in a moving vehicle with such a huge dress. With that in mind, she agreed. "Alright."

The car turned around and before she knew it, they were sitting in front of the tiny place she called home. She zipped up the bag and pulled it into her arms. The driver, however, took it from her before she got out of the car. He produced another, smaller bag that presumably carried the shoes to match since she hadn't seen any yet. They hurried inside at, again, his order. Riza let them in and braced herself. Black Hayate was waiting after a full day alone.

The dog had grown over the time Riza had him. He was almost a year old and stood about as tall as the average height of his breed. The woman hated to admit it, but she had grown fond of the creature, even his wanting to jump on her after a long day away. Mustang often joked about how attached the two were to each other by predicting who was going to fall asleep on who.

Riza turned to take the dress after a few head pats were issued to Black Hayate. She intended to get as much on by herself and only let the driver do what she couldn't. She disappeared into the room, dress in her arms and Black Hayate on her heels. The door shut and she tossed the bag on her bed. Slowly, she stripped herself while addressing her furry companion, "Remind me to not trust Roy again."

The dog offered a light whine before plopping himself down at the foot of her bed.

Riza sighed again, but spoke quietly this time, "What are we going to do with our Führer?" She took her time debating on the lacy things that waited with the dress. They were awkward to her, but she knew that Mustang hadn't just put them in by chance. He had done so with the exact purpose of making his second-in-command squirm. This made her cheeks burn just a little again. She wasn't going to let him win out on this. Her hands quickly went to retrieve the undergarments and pulled them on with surprising expertise. Adjustments were made and she went hunting for the next piece of clothing. The slip came on to cover her lower half.

When her fingers found the undershirt she wasn't expecting beneath the clothing she had already pulled out and on, she held it close with a smile. Mustang was a sucker for details. Pinned to the shirt, in his now uneven yet somehow still neat writing, there was a note that read:

_Your secret is mine to keep as much as it is yours._

_Hopefully it won't ruin your hair._

The note gained a smile from Riza. On the shirt came and the blonde found her way to a standing mirror. She fixed the slight smudge of eyeliner and the bit of messed up hair. With everything in place, she went back to the dress. She put the top on first, finding that the boning in it was not steel, but something more flexible. It made putting it on, and everything that was to come, easier than she had originally planned. Once it was adjusted properly, the skirt came on as well. Shoes, jewelery, and a quick check to make sure everything was proper, then it was time to go.

The driver was waiting and double checked to make sure the dress was fully zipped and laced correctly. Once this was sure, he lead her away to the car again. She was safely tucked away inside in a matter of moments and off they went. The ride to the next stop was quiet, but rather than being because of Riza's harsh attitude, it was because of the growing mound of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She didn't quite know what to expect of the night. Mustang often made different plans that those expected of him or his company. She sighed softly, staring out of the window.

Riza's mind wandered to all the things that had happened over the short time since Colonel Roy Mustang became Führer. King Bradley fell and Amestris watched as Major General Armstrong and Colonel Mustang fiercely battle for the position of Führer. After several months of this, Olivier Armstrong took her place back in Briggs, claiming that she no longer wished to sit in the 'cushy' Central and prefered harsh icy wasteland where she was queen. Mustang was well on his way to changing Amestris to mirror his wonderful vision. Of course, there were those who didn't agree with the plans, but they were easily persuaded to see the light. In her honest opinion, Mustang had become the Führer that was needed after the scandal with King Bradley that no one really knew of. Without his eyes, he had become more in tuned with what needed to be done without really having to be informed.

The car stopped and the door was opened, which reluctantly drug Riza out of her thoughts. She offered the man a small smile as she got out. She steadied herself and looked around. There were several other people surrounding the area, dressed in bright gowns and perfectly tailored suits. It didn't take long for her to get inside, though. Too many people knew exactly who she was and what kind of power she had. Regardless if she actually used it or not. She made her way around the throng of people and eventually resorted in slight pushing to get through. That's when she saw him.

Mustang was dressed in his favorite of the new suits he had gotten in recent months, accented with white gloves and a tie that matched her dress. His black hair was slicked back and the clouded black eyes stared blankly at the glass in his hand. He was seated on the far side of the room, slouched ever so slightly, as if not realizing that there were so many people looking to their leader at that moment. He didn't seem to have any interest in anyone who came over to murmur whatever they thought was important for him to know. Riza knew that look well; he was bored.

She made her way over, quietly. It would have ruined any sense of amusement if he heard her coming. Everyone between the two seemed to part enough for her to slip through without even a word from her. She was silently grateful of this. The dress would have made it hard to approach if there were people blocking her way. Eventually, she reached his side but stayed just out of arms' reach. Here she stood silently for a moment.

"I know you are there, General Hawkeye." However, even as he stated this, Mustang did not look in her direction. "It took you long enough to get here."

Riza quickly snapped into attention out of habit, "I'm sorry, General - I mean - Führer Mustang. There were several people in my way and the dress you picked out isn't exactly the easiest to get around in."

This earned a light chuckle from Mustang as his dark blind eyes looked up to his most trusted friend. He held out his open hand, going to stand even before Riza took it with her own. "You look beautiful, though."

The blonde's cheeks burned slightly at this, letting go of the upright Führer's hand now, "It isn't as if you can actually see this to know. What if I look hideous?"

Mustang's face gained a faint, but sweet smile at this, "I spent the vast majority of the years I had sight memorizing the shape of your face and all the emotions that would cross it. You can't tell me that you look hideous. You will always be beautiful in my eyes."

Riza simply stared at the man she had grown so close to after her father's death. She didn't know exactly what to say to this and was saved from having to respond by a gloved hand searching for hers.

"Would you like to dance?"

"If that is an order," she said quietly.

Mustang chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Tonight, forget who we are. It is just Roy and Riza. One dance. That's all I ask."

A smile grew along Riza's face as she took Mustang's hand gently with hers, "One dance. I think that can be acceptable." With this, she lead him safely to an open space where they could forget the world beyond their trusting embrace.


End file.
